Penance
by AnnaRinzler
Summary: A look at Merrick Biotech as told by an insider. But after Dr. Merrick's death, what will she do with herself? Can she possibly do anything about it? Accurately follows the movie and goes into the future.
1. Chapter 1

Penance

Penance

**Chapter One**

_Disclaimer: I don't own The Island._

Sylvia's hand trembled as she pushed a fork over the remains of her dinner. On the outside she was a calm young woman who wore her grandmother's diamonds and had her head slightly bowed, but on the inside she was a nervous, screaming wreck.

"More wine, Miss?"

She jumped as the black-clad waiter stood over her, cradling the bottle of expensive wine like an infant child. Sylvia shook her head and he nodded before backing off. Her grandma's earrings tapped against the side of her face for a moment before settling down and she stared at the empty chair in front of her, wondering if her dinner companion was trying to perform some sort of mental torture on her—she should have known better than to attend a 'business dinner' with him. Seconds later he came striding back, tucking a Blackberry into the pocket of his sleek black suit (undoubtedly Armani) and sliding into his chair with a panther's grace.

Dr. Merrick gave her a slight smile and Sylvia's breath caught in her throat. The entire eight years she had spent in college for her Ph.D. in Biomedical Engineering flashed through her head.

"Dr. Watson, I've confirmed your position with the board, and the general consensus is that you would be the best candidate to head the cloning project. Congratulations."

Her heart skipped a beat and a slow smile broke out across her face before she could stop herself. _Thank God for Crest Whitestrips, _Sylvia thought, as Dr. Merrick studied her features in the candlelight.

"Thank you sir," she replied calmly, "You won't regret hiring me."

In response she got a grave nod, and it was enough.

She floated in the clouds for the rest of the evening. Sylvia was hired_, __hired_ at the fastest-growing medical research center in the world, with Dr. Merrick, the visionary that her teachers had drooled over at Carnegie-Mellon. She couldn't believe that he'd picked her out of all those _men _working with her. _Surely_, she had thought upon first meeting him, he would be sexist. But he wasn't. He had _hired _her!

"Mother," Sylvia said breathlessly into the phone when she was curled up in her favorite chair later that night, "He _hired _me. Dr. Merrick actually took me to dinner and gave me the job."

"_Congratulations, honey! Is he single?"_

"Mother! I'm his employee now. It's not like I have a chance with him anyway!"

"_Oh, do you want a chance?"_

"No! He's too old," she grumbled, feeling guilty about bad-mouthing her boss, "And even though he's single it's not like he'd look at me as anything other than the Head Lab Rat."

"_Just teasing you, Sylvia. Don't go after your boss; he'll maintain his professional distance."_

"I know," Sylvia replied, biting her lip as she remembered the sensation of his hand at the small of her back when they were leaving the restaurant, "Someone will want to date him soon I'm sure…"

"_What?"_

"Nothing, Mom. I just wanted to tell you that I got the job."

"_Thanks for calling, Sylvia. I'm proud of you."_

"Me too," she sighed, hitting the end' button on her phone.

Sylvia touched her elegant blonde bun one last time before walking to her room to let it down. One glance in the mirror revealed tired hazel eyes and skin that was paler than usual. It had been a long and exciting day, and her body was starting to catch up. At the age of 25, Sylvia didn't exactly feel like a spring chicken anymore, though she certainly wasn't as _old _as say…Dr. Merrick. _He _was 39.

"I should go shopping," Sylvia muttered as she settled down to go to bed, "For suitable work clothes."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

_Two years later._

"We have the Defense Department."

"That's wonderful news," Sylvia said with relief, placing a hand over her heart.

Dr. Merrick nodded and glanced to his right and left. Two of Merrick Biotech's new bodyguards stood at a discreet distance from the pair seated in the Neiman Marcus Rotunda restaurant. Before the lunch he had assured her that they were mostly there to prevent hippies, PETA members, and PAC (People Against Cloning) members from harassing them.

"Well, since we have them," she continued quickly, "That means I'll be able to get that additional governmental grant for the"—

"The leukemia research," Dr. Merrick finished for her, "Fantastic."

Sylvia nodded and fiddled with the napkin in her lap, not wanting to meet his eyes. Recently he had disclosed to her that he had once had a younger sister. She died of leukemia when she was 10 and he was 15. It made him seem more human in her eyes, to know that he was quietly devoted to the monstrosity that had taken a member of his family away. The fact that he cared made him seem less like a robot and more like a living, breathing being.

"I never got a chance to properly thank you for designing the logo, by the way."

Sylvia felt a blush spread across her face and he smiled slightly in amusement.

"It was nothing, Dr. Merrick. Just something I drew, that's all."

The curved, stylized "M" had come to Sylvia on a whim, and at first she was embarrassed to show _anyone. _Now it was emblazoned on everything from computer systems to their ballpoint pens.

"That's what I've always enjoyed about you, Sylvia—you're very modest."

Goosebumps spread across her skin when he said her name, her _first _name, and not the "Dr. Watson" or "Watson" that he used around the office. Sylvia found herself enjoying his smooth British voice saying her name so she quickly glanced behind him, out the window overlooking the street—and gasped.

"J-John," she stammered, "The paparazzi…they're coming this way."

"You two," Dr. Merrick snapped, motioning at the bodyguards, "Handle this."

Sylvia stared out of the window, mesmerized by the sight of black-clad men and women swarming like ants across the street as they prepared cameras and microphones, frantically rushing to the doors of the Rotunda.

"Sylvia," Dr. Merrick barked, grabbing her hand and literally yanking the young scientist out of her chair.

Their bodyguards had already rushed to the main entrance as the press tried to push their way into the restaurant. Dr. Merrick laced his fingers through hers and they walked at a brisk clip to the side entrance.

"We're going to have to run to the limousine," he said, his glasses darkening the instant the sun hit them, "Are you ready?"

Sylvia fumbled with her own pair of Versace sunglasses and put them on just in time for Dr. Merrick to open the large glass doors. Chaos reigned on the concrete stairs. Scores of paparazzi were pressing there way up them and their jumbled yells cut through Sylvia's veins. The British doctor paused and wrapped his arm around her waist, shielding Sylvia from the bodies crowding around them.

"Dr. Merrick! Over here!"

"What do you think about PETA's accusations?"

"Hey gorgeous, give us a smile! Dr. Merrick! Who's your girlfriend?"

"What's your net worth? Are you going to declare soon?"

To Dr. Merrick's credit he didn't say anything. He just pushed through the crowd, using himself as a buffer as Sylvia clung to his side and tried to avoid looking into the flashing cameras. Even if she had _wanted _to respond to the screaming photographers, she wouldn't have been able to hear herself talk. The Biotech bodyguards moved quickly toward the crowd and soon the paparazzi parted in a wave, giving them both a clear shot to the limo. The driver rapidly opened the door for them and Dr. Merrick held Sylvia's hand until she had slid into the black interior. She moved to the opposite side to give him room to slide in, but he didn't.

"J—Dr. _Merrick_!"

_Slam._

He closed the door and swiftly turned to face the media. Sylvia fumbled with the door for a moment before she stared at him and realized that he had _locked her in_ with the keychain he was holding behind his back. Dr. Merrick was saying _something _to the press, who seemed to have gotten magically calmer, but she couldn't figure out what it was, even by pressing her ear against the glass. As soon as he turned around they started yelling again, the noise buffered until he opened the door and a wall of sound slapped her in the face.

"Damage control," Dr. Merrick sighed as he sat down and adjusted his tie.

"Oh."

They limo pulled out into traffic and they soon left the paparazzi in the dust. Sylvia didn't know what to say so she took a deep breath to calm herself down. She folded her hands together to keep them from shaking. His hand on her shoulder made her look up.

"Are you aright?"

"I'm fine, Dr. Merrick," she responded quietly, looking into his intelligent blue eyes.

"Good."

She faced forward. There was nothing more to be said, so they lapsed into a comfortable silence for the rest of the way back.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

"_Dr. Watson?"_

"Yes?" Sylvia responded to the ceiling's speakers as she juggled three Petri dishes.

"_Dr. Merrick needs to speak with you in his office—it's urgent."_

"I'll be there in a moment."

Sylvia motioned to her young lab assistant Melanie before taking off, buttoning an additional button of the lab coat she had left undone before smoothing a hand over her high ponytail. Sylvia was nervous. She knew a thing or two about corporate politics. Only the strong survived—along with those who didn't make waves. Sylvia had created a veritable hurricane, and it might have already cost Dr. Merrick his reputation. If he was thinking along the same lines, the young doctor was toast—and she knew it.

Dr. Merrick's secretary ushered Sylvia into his private office immediately. Her eye was immediately drawn to his still form as he sat with his hands clasped on top of the desk.

"You wanted to see me, Dr. Merrick?"

Sylvia smoothed her hands nervously over her skirt and he nodded.

"Please, sit down."

She did so slowly and with great apprehension. He didn't look happy. Maybe he wanted to talk to her about the previous day's disastrous lunch. Maybe he was going to fire her over it. Sylvia's pulse quickened.

"First and foremost I would like to apologize for yesterday. Secondly, I would like to prepare you for the aftermath."

He reached behind his desk and pulled out a large stack of tabloids printed on thin, cheap paper. Fanning them out on his desk like a stack of cards revealed their ugly, bold headlines: "Dr. Merrick's torrid love affair" and "Billionaire Doctor goes wife-shopping." One in particular caught Sylvia's eye and she picked it up.

"Doctor Merrick Dating French Model?"

She picked up the trashy magazine between two fingers and looked at the picture. Sylvia internally cringed. The front cover showed a large photo of Dr. Merrick and herself, each of their faces grim and obscured by sunglasses. Sylvia was apparently clinging to his suit jacket and his hand was resting protectively at her hip.

"Ridiculous, isn't it? I've been getting calls from members of the board all day."

Sylvia nodded dumbly.

"Apparently the press is convinced that you're a French supermodel and we're having some sort of sordid love affair. How they coined _that _particular story, I'll never know."

An acidic taste rose up in Sylvia's mouth. She knew what was coming next: A polite smile, a stipend, and the "I'm very sorry, Doctor…" spiel before his secretary showed her the door for good.

"I understand, sir," she whispered sadly, "When do you want me to sign the Privacy Contract?"

He gave her a blank stare. For several seconds an agonizing silence reigned in the spacious room before Dr. Merrick blinked and pushed his glasses up on his nose.

"Why _exactly _do you think I would want you to do that?"

"I—just thought that it would be in the company's best interest"—

"If you remained _here_," he said firmly, "And continued your research."

Her spirits lifted slightly and she nodded.

"I'll handle the press," Dr. Merrick continued, "And I'll see to it that the rumors cease immediately. I don't want to put you in the spotlight. It's a very tiring place to be."

"I don't want to be in the public eye, sir. Especially for my family's sake."

"Of course. We don't want _The Enquirer_ or PACsnooping around rural _Arkansas_ bothering your relatives, do we?"

"Of course not," she mumbled, looking down at the magazine that was now tightly clenched in her hands.

"Very well. I'll take care of everything. Would you mind disposing of these on your way out?"

"No," she said, picking up the stack of magazines, "I'll put them in the recycler."

"Thank you, Dr. Watson. Have a good day."

"You too Dr. Merrick."

She balanced the stack of magazines in her hands and strode out of his office, her chin held high. As soon as Sylvia reached a sleek silver recycling machine, she put all but one tabloid in the slot.

"I can't believe I'm reading this garbage," Sylvia muttered later, locking herself in a storeroom.

She hopped on a large box of unopened laboratory supplies and opened the tabloid claiming that she was a reclusive French model. Scanning it revealed the standard crap that tabloids had always spewed, but _apparently_ she and Dr. Merrick had been dating for months and trying to hide their relationship with a series of wigs and disguises.

"_Don't want your relatives in rural Arkansas…Arkansas…Arkansas…"_

There was a sneer in his voice when he said it, but Sylvia knew that Dr. Merrick couldn't help himself—he was a product of the corporate system and Podunk, Arkansas was about as far off the consumer map as a person could get, even though her little city had turned out its fair share of white-collared professionals and powerful politicians.

"I'm a model now, apparently."

Her voice echoed off of the steel walls. Though the press knew nothing about her, they were picking apart every little detail of her appearance and had managed to piece together a story about her being a French model, though she had no French accent and didn't quite think she measured up to French style standards. Vanessa was just a lab rat. She had always been content to be one, and why should that change now? It was her employer they were after, _not _her. The paparazzi must have targeted her because she was the only female Dr. Merrick went out in public with—all the other Heads of his department were men.

"_Dr. Watson?"_

"Yes?" She asked up to the metal speaker in the ceiling.

"_Dr. Merrick wants to know if you want extra security around you on your way home."_

"No thanks," she replied, "Tell him I'll be fine."

"_Very well," _the female voice replied coolly, _"I'll inform him that you don't want any guards."_

It was to be the worst decision of Vanessa's young life.


End file.
